27
by Toffee Fox
Summary: A collection of drabbles and possibly some short, maybe related oneshots, as well as a few prompts and ideas for stories as I come up with or collect them, all mostly centered around Atom's adorkable brother, Cobalt. Rating and genre may vary from story to story; Rated T for general purposes. Perpetually in progress, or until I see fit. Now playing: Some angst.
1. Random Angst

**Author's Note: Okay, here we go! This basically a place for all my drabbles- and maybe some related oneshots- to go. I may also include story prompts/ideas (I believe these are called "plot bunnies"?); you can pick these up if you want, but link me to the story in a review or PM, and make sure to ask/tell me beforehand! Credit for the ideas should also be clearly stated. If I get some ideas from other people or places, I shall cite my sources, so proper credit can be given.**

**Okay, first up is some angst in the form of a (very short) drabble, in the same vein as my last story. Enjoy!**

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A heavy frown, and a deep, long-suffering sigh, and the sound of a glass being set back down on a wooden surface. He turns up the volume on the music player, and reclines, trying his very best to ignore the annoying frequency issuing from their mouths. He really can't stand it when they go on and on like this. If music doesn't drown them out entirely, he'll have to get up and leave the house, taking his music with him, and listen to it somewhere else. Atom has been trying to bother for some reason or other, and won't leave him alone; Spica never shuts up; and Uran has been pestering about some ridiculous promise that he doesn't remember making, and he is pretty sure that he never made in the first place. He sighs again, this time with obvious annoyance, and shoots a glare in their general direction. Atom looks taken aback at first, but then shrugs, sighs, and backs off... for now. Spica obviously hasn't seen it, and Uran either hasn't seen, or is ignoring it... again.

He wonders when they'll let up. He finds it ironic, though; whenever he's alone, he craves company; yet when he's surrounded by people trying to interact with him, he's willing to do almost anything to escape. Of course, he has to manage it tactfully. But he doesn't understand why this is, and he would really like to know. It's a bit unpleasant, really, how he can't simply enjoy anything anymore. He wishes it wasn't like this. But everything just seems like too much. He does not realize that Atom is trying to talk to him, to reach out and help him with whatever problems he's facing; he does not care that Spica wants to get to know him better, to try to at least establish friendship- because he knows that she would never be satisfied without more; and he does not recall promising anything to Uran, because he hadn't been paying much attention when she asked, and since he does not remember agreeing to anything, he blows her off when she tries to hold him to it, to make him get up and interact more with her and his siblings, because she's scared for him, and she wants to keep him busy doing stuff, not escaping by drowning himself with his music and trying to shut everything away.

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**AN: Yeah, that was really unpolished. But it taught me that I tend to write better (or at least, more easily) when I'm listening to music, strangely enough.**


	2. Jetto's Mansion

He always hated that house at the end of the drive. He didn't live in that particular neighborhood himself, but he had to go there whenever he was visiting at his friend's house for group projects or studying, or just to hang out in general... His friend's house was cool- it was creepy, sure, but in an entirely different way- well, okay, maybe not _too_ different, but it was still much more inviting and... _livable_, I suppose you could say, than the house at the end of the drive, and he had his friend with him, too, along with maybe a few other friends or close acquaintances- though this was not very often, as his friend didn't like letting too many people into their house at any given time. Or at all. Really, he was one of the few people (assuming he could even be classified as such) that was allowed to come over for any reason (but NOT without calling ahead first; you can't just show up on their doorstep unannounced, that'd be rude- and most likely involve having the door slammed in your face, as he found out through another friend, depending on the nature of your visit- anything less than "life-threatening emergency" was a no-no, and even _that_ was iffy). But where were we, I wonder...? Ah yes, the house... the one at the end of the drive...

He hated _that_ particular house because it was _far_ less livable than the one his friend occupied with their oddball family. It had been abandoned quite some time ago- no one could say for sure when, as none of the neighborhood's current residents lived there before it was abandoned; though it's believed that it was abandoned shortly before the other residents left. There was not a person who lived there now who didn't find that story at least a little bit fishy, nor was there a single soul who didn't think there was at least something a bit... _off_ about the house (if they didn't find it downright, hands-down, borderline _creepy_, that is). Though not as long abandoned as most stereotypically creepy abandoned houses were, the house had been neglected for long enough to become dank and unpleasant, even rotting away in some places. Ivy grew unchecked up a trellis once reserved for lovely flowers, like roses, or those climbing, trumpet-looking dealies- y'know, the ones that look a bit like daffodils? Heck, they might even be a kind of daffodil... _ANYWAY_... yep, a whole lot of tangled, ugly ivy grew up that trellis now, threatening to overtake the entire right face of the two-story house (heck, possibly even the entire right wing). No one dared go inside- oh they weren't SCARED of the old house or anything, no, far from it, actually. It's just that old houses could be dangerous, rotting away like that. Yup. Never go into strange, slightly unsettling old abandoned houses, kids- it's just not safe! You could get hurt. Which is why no one, young or old, resident of the neighborhood or not, ever went into the old house. It was an unspoken rule that everyone abided by.

Everyone except _HIM_, apparently. Why, oh _why_, did he have to such a troublesome and rebellious rule-breaker? It would make life so much easier, for him _and_ for everyone else. Why was he even here again- ah, YES, _now_ he remembered. He had been telling his brother, Atom, about something he and his friend had been doing that day at their house. Atom had enquired about where his friend lived, and he had been telling him a few things about the neighborhood, his friend's house (not _too_ much, though; his friend would kill him, he made a point to inform Atom of this), and just so happened let slip about the house at the end of the dead end drive (oh how he hated that phrase- _dead_ _end_- it was just so... _unseemly_), you know, just to ask about his opinion on it, because Atom was usually very sharp on these kinds of things. And his little sister, Uran, the little she-devil in disguise, happened to overhear this last little tidbit. And Uran being Uran, she couldn't just let this die; she _had_ to get onto him about it. She called him out on his deep-seated fear of the place, a fear that she found highly amusing (he did not find it amusing at all, especially since it did not even exist in the first place, as he would deny to anyone but himself), and after a quick (and rather flustered and panicky, on his part) argument, he found him self saddled with a dreaded, irreversible triple-dog dare to go and explore the house. Alone. With no one to help him.

And so, armed with little but his lock-picking toolkit (don't ask), a bag of marbles (again- don't ask), and an LED flashlight, along with the "emergency kit" his sister was kind enough to pack for him, he (not so) bravely sallied forth into this new and _exciting_ adventure, that he was becoming more and more certain was going to be the death of him with each passing minute, even though he hadn't made it past the foyer yet.

He had a really bad feeling about this...

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**AN: Okay, this appears to be my longest one yet! And I might even add more to this one; what do you guys think?**

**AprilSeven2: Er. _Not_ what I was going for, exactly... You see, I wasn't really going for anything in particular. I just listened to some music and wrote, and that was what appeared- sort of like this one, although _this_ particular story came about from listening to various versions of the theme to Luigi's Mansion (two, actually), hence the admittedly stupid chapter name.**

**Tetsuwan Penguin: I did not really put that much of myself into this, actually- if anything made it in there, it was probably subconscious, but certainly not intentional. I cannot even relate to the situation I put him into (why am I so terrible to my little muse? why? D: )**

**Jeez, it's odd to have people "get" things about my story that wasn't actually there in the first place. The last chapter was an unplanned drabble, with no real meaning behind it other than what was obviously there. This is bothering me more than it should; but I just so hate for people to get the wrong idea...**


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